The Rogue You Know (Covent Garden Cubs) (11 page)

* * *

Her deep brown eyes widened, and he might have feared he’d scared her if she hadn’t parted her lips and touched the tip of her tongue to the top. She wanted to be kissed. She should have been kissed before now, perhaps by some inexperienced youth who slobbered all over her or stuck his tongue down her throat.

His hand tightened in her thick strawberry-blond hair. He didn’t want to think of any other man kissing her. He wanted to be the first.

“Why was telling you I’d never been kissed a mistake?” she asked, her voice breathy and low.

“Because it’s an oversight I must rectify.”

Her hair tickled his bare wrist. It felt like he imagined a skein of silk might feel before being woven into an exquisite garment. Her long lashes fluttered, then lifted again, giving him a look into her wide eyes—eyes that were dark with arousal.

“You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t dare to touch you. And I’ll kiss you because I shouldn’t dare. Call it my contrary nature. I have a bad habit of doing what I shouldn’t.”

He lowered his lips and brushed them lightly across hers. Her lashes fluttered down, and he felt her tremble ever so slightly in his arms.

When he lifted his lips, her lashes lifted again. “Was that the kiss?”

He tried to hide his smile. “No.”

The hand on her back drifted down to caress the curve of her waist. She was slim, but she had curves. He wanted to slide his fingers lower to discover whether her arse was as round and firm as he thought. But he’d save that for later.

He knew without question there would be a later.

“I plan to corrupt you, Strawberry.”

“I told you I don’t want to be corrupted.”

“Little by little.” His fingers edged down to her waist. “Bit by bit.” He brushed the swell of her arse. “Minute by minute.”

He gave her flesh a light squeeze, and she jumped.

“You don’t want to be corrupted.” He brushed her lips with his again. “Give me the necklace.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “Not until…”

His tongue traced the seam of her lip. She was impossibly sweet. Her lips were lush and full, and the taste of her like honey.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, sounding scandalized.

“I told you.” He nibbled her lower lip. “Corrupting you.”

He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her gently, allowing her to accustom herself to the feel of him.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Then tell me to stop.” He paused, his lips so close to hers all he needed to do was breathe to touch her.

He waited. Gideon was a lot of things—a thief, a liar, a cheat. But he was no bully. He’d stop if she asked.

His heart pounded in his chest, and his body tensed. His cock grew hard as the seconds passed. Neither of them moved or breathed. And just when he thought they might be at another impasse, her hand pressed lightly against his chest.

That light, tentative touch almost undid him. He was tempted beyond reason to ease her back onto the bed, cover her with his body, kiss her the way she should be kissed. It would be nothing to accomplish. One leg was braced on the bed, and he held her to him. He needed only to lower her to the bedspread.

But Gideon wasn’t Beezle’s best rook because he gave in to urges. He knew how to be patient. He knew how to wait.

He bore the heat and the light brush of her fingers as her hand explored the contours of his chest. He fought not to jerk when her faltering fingers tickled him. He gritted his teeth when she skated over a particularly sensitive spot.

He waited until she raised her eyes to him again. The invitation was in her eyes, but he wanted to hear it.

“Say it,” he murmured, his lips almost touching hers when he spoke the words.

“Kiss me,” she whispered so quietly he almost couldn’t hear her.

“Gideon.” He pressed his lips against hers gently, teasing her. “Kiss me, Gideon.”

She tried to shake her head, but his hand in her hair held her steady.

“I can’t say that.” He could feel the heat of her embarrassment where their skin touched. If he’d pulled back to see, he knew her face would have been the color of a beet.

“You can say it.”

He pressed his lips to hers again, taking her lower lip between his teeth and sucking lightly.

“You want to say it.”

“I don’t…”

“Say it, Susanna.
Kiss
me, Gideon.
Say it, and I’ll slide my tongue inside you. I’ll kiss you until you forget my name and your name and your fucking money and title. Say it.”

Her body went rigid at his curse. It was impossible for him to temper his language when he was this aroused. And if she pulled back now, he’d make a vow never to curse again.

But she leaned closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. Small, firm breasts that would fit his hands perfectly.

Desire raged through his body, and his efforts at restraint taxed his muscles until they felt like they might pop with the exertion. He’d never wanted anything this badly. Never wanted a woman so much. Never waited for a woman like this.

Any other woman, and he would have walked away, decided she wasn’t worth the effort.

But Gideon didn’t move.

Her dark eyes focused on his. “Kiss me, Gideon.”

He checked the urge to take her with the fierceness his body craved. Instead, he opted for torturous slowness. His lips slid over hers again and again until he knew her shape and was drunk on the satiny texture. She tried to kiss him back, an awkward attempt that only made him want her more.

He tasted her with his tongue, prompting her to part her lips. When she did, he slid inside her warmth.

She gasped and tried to withdraw, but he held her close. His tongue stroked hers, tangled with it, thrust and retreated. After a moment, she stopped fighting him. She moaned low in her throat, her body relaxing into his. He slanted his mouth over hers again and again, kissing her deeper and with more urgency.

He knew the moment she surrendered. Her body slid against his in an instinctive movement, and her tongue tangled with his. She was a quick student, and though her kisses were still unpracticed, Gideon’s cock throbbed in response to her efforts.

He buried both hands in her hair and finally summoned the willpower to break the kiss. It was either that or take her on the bed.

God knew he wanted to take her. And God knew he had no right to take her virginity. He was a common thief and she a lady, and he wasn’t good enough to kiss her feet, much less touch her like this.

“Strawberry,” he said, pulling back and giving her a cocky grin. “I think my work here is done. I’d venture to say you’re one step closer to corruption.”

He gave her a wink because it was the sort of thing he’d seen lechers do.

Her hand stung his face when she slapped him. He released her. Obviously, the wink had been too much.

She pushed him back—unnecessary, really, considering he was already moving away to avoid another slap—and jumped off the bed.

“Do not ever touch me again, you—you
rogue
!”

He flinched, only half in jest.

Head held high, she whirled and marched to the door. Throwing it open, she tossed a withering look over her shoulder and slammed it shut behind her.

It had been a glorious exit, Susanna decided when she paused on the stairs and continued her retreat. Her return would not be as glorious. She should have considered the amorous activities of the couple downstairs before she’d marched away.

She should have ordered Gideon to leave. Let him interrupt the moaning and grunting.

What on earth were they doing anyway?

She had some idea. She’d moaned herself when he’d kissed her a few moments before. She hadn’t known a kiss could be like that. She’d only ever experienced the dry, papery-light pecks her mother had given her. Her brothers occasionally bussed her on the forehead, but that was even less personal.

She’d seen Dane kiss his wife, of course. But she hadn’t dared watch them too closely. Did Dane kiss Marlowe the way Gideon had just kissed her? Did everyone kiss that way?

It was scandalous!

It was startling.

She wanted to do it again.

But not with Gideon Harrow.

She never wanted to see him again. In fact, she wished she could force him to go to Vauxhall Gardens right now so she could be rid of him sooner. Instead, she would have to walk back into that room and bear his mocking grin.

Swallowing the bile rising in her throat along with her pride, she opened the door and stepped back inside. Gideon was at the window again, and to her surprise, he didn’t look around.

“I hope you’ve come to apologize.”

“Apologize!” she sputtered. “You possess the unmitigated gall to suggest—”

“That’s a no then.” He leaned a shoulder against the window, still not turning to face her. Below, something crashed to the floor. Susanna closed her eyes in mortification.

“Like rabbits, aren’t they?”

She didn’t answer. She did not want to encourage conversation. Instead, she went to the bed and sat primly on the edge. She folded her hands together and waited for him to make fun of her, but he continued to stare out the window.

What did he see out there that held his interest? He was probably plotting a new crime. That was fine with her, as long as he conducted his criminal activity
after
he’d escorted her to Vauxhall. She was through pitying him. Yes, his mother and grandmother had died from fever. It did not seem that his father had been a very kind or compassionate man.

Many men had unkind fathers.

Many women too.

That didn’t mean one had to resign oneself to a life of crime. He might have stayed at the orphanage, tried to learn a trade…

Oh, she was being ridiculous now. Even sheltered as she was, she knew orphanages treated their wards little better than gaolers treated prisoners. She’d once asked her mother if she might join a philanthropic society to aid orphans, but her mother had forbid it.

“Philanthropy is for married women,” she’d said. Apparently, the plight of orphans was too shocking for young misses.

She pulled a lock of her hair down and examined the ends, partly to have something to do and partly to shield her face in case Gideon turned to look at her.

She did not pity him. He’d made his choices. He had few of them, but he had survived and made a life for himself. Too bad his way of living dictated he take advantage of her when she’d offered him the meager comfort any compassionate person would have. She would have to be strong and unfeeling to survive the night ahead.

She peeked through the strands of red. He still stood at the window. One of his hands tapped his thigh, the fingers beating a rapid pace. What
was
he planning?

This long silence made her uncomfortable. How long would she be trapped in this room with him?

“I believe I mentioned I wanted to go to Vauxhall Gardens because of my mother.”

“Actually, you called it your dream.”

“It is, or rather, what it represents is.”

The fingers tapping on his thigh paused. “I’m listening.”

“Dreams may seem silly to you.”

“Now why would you think that?” he drawled.

She paused at his sarcasm. She should have expected it. “But I assure you my life has not been without its own travails.”

“Travails?” he said with a disparaging look over his shoulder. “Right. Like the day you sacked your slavey and had to dress
yourself
in silk and diamonds.”

“Well, yes, that was a difficult day.”

He rounded on her, and she smiled.

Slowly, a smile crept over his features too. “You don’t take yourself as seriously as I thought.”

“I take myself very seriously. I must go to Vauxhall. After this, I’ll never have another chance. I have to know why my mother behaves as she does.”

“And how is that?” He rolled one of his sleeves up, exposing a muscled, bronzed forearm.

“Protective.”

He looked up from his sleeve. “Yes, that must be awful.”

“It is when it’s taken too far. I’m not even allowed to go to the ladies’ retiring room by myself!”

“The what?”

Her cheeks burst with heat. “You know, the private chamber for ladies.”

“Oh, you mean to piss?” He grinned. “Sorry. But the look on your face was worth the crass words.” He put a hand over his heart. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman for the rest of the day.”

“That I would like to see.”

He gave her a rather dashing bow. “As you wish.” He started on the other sleeve. “So your dear mama is overprotective.”

“Yes. She’s always been thus with me. My brothers were allowed to do as they wished, but I was locked away.”

“Would it be impertinent to point out that you are a girl and they are boys?”

She checked a smile at the lofty way he gestured with his hand. “No, and even taking that into account, she all but smothered me. I don’t understand why. I’ve done nothing to lose her trust.”

“Until now.”

“Yes, until now. And I’ve taken this step only as a last resort. You see, I was finally allowed to go to the ladies’ retiring room alone, and when I was there, I had the oddest conversation.”

He raised a finger. “I want credit for the fact that I have not voiced one comment that has crossed my mind these last few moments.”

“You have it. Lady Winthorpe mentioned my mother had once been in love. And the man she had loved was not my father.”

Gideon gasped. “No!”

Susanna looked about for something to throw. Where was her candlestick? Drat! She’d left it downstairs. “I know that is not unusual, but if you knew my mother, it would surprise you. She’s…not the sort to fall in love.”

“You mean she is a cold bitch?” At her stare, he held his hands up protectively. “I mean that in the most polite and gentlemanly way possible.”

“No matter.” Susanna stood. “Nothing you say can shock me anymore.”

“Oh, I very much doubt that.”

“You promised to be on your best behavior.”

“It’s just so damn tempting.” His fingers danced on his thigh again. “Tell me more about
Lady
Winthorpe
.”

Susanna smiled at the way he made her name sound like she was on par with the Queen. “My mother has never loved anyone. Or at least that has not been my observation. Not me, not my brothers, not my father. Who is this man she did love?”

“The man
Lady
Winthorpe
thinks she loved.”

“Yes, it is the countess’s recollection, but she mentioned picnics and late-night rendezvous at Vauxhall Gardens. She intimated my mother and…this man were lovers.”

“Shocking. Immoral behavior among the upper classes.”

Susanna strode to the window and stared out, seeing nothing. “Mock me if you will, but I couldn’t help but think if I went to Vauxhall Gardens, I might discover something about her past.”

“I don’t mean to wake you from this dream—no, yes, I do mean to do exactly that. These meetings at Vauxhall were how many years ago? Twenty? Thirty?”

A group of boys carrying sticks chased a distorted ball into an alley then returned again, swatting it through the legs of passersby.

“I agree. I had thought of that, but then when I mentioned the possibility of her taking me to the pleasure gardens, she acted so strangely, so adamant that I not go. I began to wonder if maybe there was something there she wanted to hide from me.”

He leaned one shoulder on the window casing, standing very close to her. “Let me get this straight. Your mother told you not to go to Vauxhall Gardens, and the very next thing you do is run off with me to…
Vauxhall
Gardens
. I no longer wonder at your mother following you to the retreating room.”

“It’s a retiring room, and that has nothing to do with it. This is the first time I have ever disobeyed her.”

“The last time too, I imagine, when she has you back.”

“I’ll be married immediately or sent to a convent in France.”

“A convent?” He lifted a strand of her hair to his nose. “The life of a nun wouldn’t suit you.”

“How do you know?” she asked in challenge. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know that inside that prissy exterior, there’s a woman with needs and desires waiting to come out.”

“That’s what you want to believe because you want to corrupt me.”

“On the contrary. I want to corrupt you because I see the potential in you. You’re a wanton, Strawberry.”

She slapped his hand, freeing her hair. “I most certainly am not.”

“The way you kissed me earlier suggests otherwise. There’s passion in you. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel anything.”

“I won’t discuss this.” She directed her gaze out the window again.

“Why? Don’t want to admit you’re a flesh-and-blood woman, not a virgin sacrifice? Your mother will marry you to the highest bidder, most likely an old man with a title and enough blunt to fill a house. That’s what swells do to their children, isn’t it? Marry them for connections or blunt?”

“My brother did neither.”

He lifted her hair again, and this time she allowed it. “That puts more pressure on you to be good, to go to your marriage bed as the sacrificial lamb. Tell me this”—he leaned close and whispered in her ear—“do you think your old, feeble husband will make you feel like I did?”

She shuddered, uncertain whether the gesture was from lust at the memory of Gideon’s kisses or revulsion at the prospect of her future husband.

“Do you think it’s like that every time two people come together? It’s not. I felt something too, Susanna.”

She turned her head sharply, causing him to tug on the lock of hair he still held. “You felt something?” She studied his face, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. His green eyes were clear and guileless, but she could not afford to believe he meant what he’d said.

She couldn’t trust him.

“Something you’ve never felt before?” she asked softly. “Something different than every other woman you’ve ever been with? I’m special, is that correct?”

“You seem skeptical.”

“My brothers warned me about men like you. You just want to trick me into falling into your bed.” As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she felt the heat rise from her bosom to the top of her forehead.

He leaned close, one finger playing with the yellowed lace on her sleeve. “Do you really think I’d have to trick you to take you to bed?”

No, no she did not. One look at those gorgeous eyes. One look at those sinful lips. He did not need to persuade her much at all. She stepped back, stationed herself on the other side of the window. “Why are we having this conversation? Again? This is about why I need to go to Vauxhall. I want you to understand why I must go.”

“Oh, I understand.”

“You say that as though you understand something I haven’t stated.”

“See, I knew you were clever.” He winked at her.

“I have no hidden agenda.”

“Oh, yes you do. You just don’t know it.”

“Really?” She folded her arms over her chest and thrust a hip out. “Then what is it?”

“You have seized upon this trek to Vauxhall because it offers you what you really want.”

“Which is to see Vauxhall Gardens.”

“No. What you really want is a change, an escape from the life you’ve led until now. A way out before you’re married to Lord Doddering, and you’re trapped.”

Her arms seemed to unfold themselves.

“In which case,” he added with a wicked grin, “why not seize your freedom while you have the chance?”

* * *

He didn’t reach for her, but she stepped back nonetheless. “Don’t even think about it, Mr. Harrow.”

He laughed. “I do believe you’re the only lady that’s ever called me
Mr. Harrow
. I like it. I like you.”

“Why?” Her brow furrowed, the slender eyebrows dipping down. “You shouldn’t like me.”

“Shouldn’t I? You did steal my necklace.”

“It’s not your—”

“And you have an annoying tendency to argue with me.”

She tossed her head.

“And stick your nose in the air as though the air the rest of us breathe isn’t good enough for you.”

Her head jerked down, and she poked him in the chest. “That’s not true. I’ve never thought that.”

“You’re an earl’s daughter. You think it without even realizing it.”

Her face flushed again, this time with anger. “Of all the gall—”

“That’s right.” He paced away from her, pretending to warm to his topic. “You use words like
gall
and
unpardonable
.” He imitated her accent and waved a pinky finger.

“You’re jealous because your vocabulary consists solely of words like
arse
and
fuck
.”

The moment the word escaped her lips, she clamped both hands over them. Her eyes, huge and owlish, darted from side to side, as though she feared someone had overheard.

Gideon grinned like a fool. He grabbed her hands and pulled them down. “What did you say, Lady Susanna?”

“Leave me alone.” She tried to pull away, but he was having too much fun.

“Did I hear the word
arse
escape those pretty pink lips?” He touched a finger to her lips, and she promptly tried to bite him. He was too quick for that. “Arse,” he mimicked in her rounded vowels. “It sounds so refined. But the other…”

“Do not say it,” she warned him.